A Decent Death

Indie, DBD based, Exquisite Corpse RP (non-DBD verses available)

[transcxndxnt]

tran·​scen·​dent 

1: exceeding usual limits : surpassing

2: extending or lying beyond the limits of ordinary experience

3: transcending the universe or material existence

an indie RP blog forTran Vinh of Exquisite Corpse

“His family still called him Vinh. To everyone else he was Tran. In English, the short sharp syllable suggested movement (transmission, transpose) and the crossing of boundaries (transcontinental, tranquilize, transvestite), both of which he liked.”

primarily dead by daylight based, with other verses available

exploring themes of dying young, coming into your own as a gay man in the 90's, running out of time, and picking up the pieces

written by Rose. 30. he/they.

RULES//ABOUT//VERSES//PROMPTS//OPENS

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It isn't a long walk; he didn't stray too far from the site of his death to begin with. No point in going all the way across the state- once you're dead, here's as good as there. They're already just around the corner by the time the man questions him.

“Picture's worth a thousand words. You're about to find out.” They pass a handful of houses, all enormous and clearly expensive, each encircled by wrought iron gates. He stops in front of one on the corner, tests the gate- still unlocked. He passes through the yard, tries the front door; the knob turns, it's unlocked, but he doesn't open it just yet.

“You strike me as the kind of guy who knows what dead bodies smell like. No offense. Kinda feels rude to spring it on you, anyway, so here's your warning. I don't know how long it's been but, uh… long enough.”

[l-ethiferous]

Well, he at least wasn't lying about the rich ass area; he had no doubt that he'd probably end up either throwing salt at the other or harassing an excorcist to get rid of him if he was yanking his chain on possible money (perhaps he will truly look into robbing his victims after he murders them; journalisim isn't paying enough even if he reports his own crimes), so robbing an anabdoned mansion from some rich fuck didn't seem like a bad idea.

"Long enough? And you imply there's corpses inside?" His delivery only acompanied by a slight raising of the brow for the other's offhand comment (no offense taken, he couldn't give much of a shit), but the promise of money and such outweighed any previous annoyances he might have had of the other. Not too much however; he was a tad annoyed that the other was using his apparent greed to allow him to hang around him longer, but he suppossed there could be worse things in the afterlife than a ghost following him around, and it wouldn't have been the first time either.

Besides, at least this guy wasn't some vengeful spirit like his victims.

"Well, what are we waiting for?"

[transcxndxnt]

When they step inside, the scent of bodies that have been rotting in the heat for weeks, if not months, is overpowering. Tran's senses are severely dampened from the whole being dead thing, and even he can smell it. But, he wasn't lying about the amount of cash Danny could get out of this place.

Even at first glance, everything looks worth something. The decor is all purple, rose, and gold, the furniture visibly antique in style, but in excellent condition; it's clear the owner didn't have guests often. The paintings on the walls alone would be worth something, the gold candelabras and vases worth just as much.

“There's a safe in the bedroom. I poked around when I woke up here, got it open, figured I didn't really need handfuls of gold wherever I'm going. Turns out I'm going nowhere, so…”

[pawcakes]

i will look at u with my big doe eyes … and u will pay for my iced coffee

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[I'm going to try to actually get things done on @voyeuriistic for once today, so im logging out on here, but catch me on discord @ canongay ]

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@neonfool

It's easier to get into the Afterlife than he's expecting. Plan A, 24 hours prior, was to wait outside until the wee hours of the morning in the hopes of catching V leaving for the night.

It didn't work.

But, it brought him an opportunity for a Plan B. Just when he was considering giving up for the night and finding a safer place to crash, he caught the eye of a different merc.

The guy thought he was a joytoy. Though he set the record straight on that, there was still room for negotiation- a blowjob and about 60 eddies worth of Glitter in exchange for a couch to sleep on for the night and an escort into the Afterlife the following night. Primary concern was that the guy was going to get attached and keep him on a short leash once they got into the bar.

Negotiations continued once they were inside. The agreement had been to part ways once they were past the doors but, hands on Tran's thigh trying to slide up his dress, the merc tried to convince him otherwise- just one drink, come on, last night was a good time, wasn't it?

“That kid even old enough to be in here? Come on, Jeff, fuck off.” calls a redhead behind the bar. The merc takes the hint- if he's gonna try anything else, it can't be with the bartender staring him down, ready to kick him out if he causes a scene.

Tran moves towards the bar, takes a seat, sticks a couple eddies in the tip jar, “Thanks…”

“Yeah, don't mention it. But, seriously, aren't you a little young to be in here?”

“I'm 21- and I'm looking for someone.”

“A fixer? You in trouble?”

“I was. I'm not anymore. Wanted to tell the guy thanks… Heard he owns the place…”

The bartender lights up at that. Apparently he's in the right place- she definitely knows him. “That checks out. V's a good guy- always sticking his neck out for people. And you're in luck- he's around, just took a trip to the bathroom.”

As if on cue, the brightly colored hair of the legendary merc can be seen weaving through the crowd, en route back to the bar. Tran hops up and intercepts, meeting him halfway with a great big smile.

“You're V! Holy shit! Everyone said I could find you here, but I was like ‘nahhh, no way, just chilling at a bar like a normal guy!?’ But, you're here!”

He pauses for just a moment, if only to finally take a breath. “You probably don't even remember me, sorry, uh-”

This isn't exactly how he rehearsed this. God, he sounds so stupid. His smile falters- he's definitely annoying V.

“You saved my life.”

[neonfool]

That was... Sad. Night City was sad. "Oh. Sorry to hear it."

V had heard a million stories just like it. That was the endless refrain of Night City, suffering and sadness. V wanted to help. He always did. And he could, now--the kid was right, he was a legend, with the bank account and the kind of well-paying jobs to show for it. It wasn't like money mattered to someone who was dying, anyway.

"Let me transfer you a few eddies to get a hotel for a few days or something. I know a couple cheap ones that'll last you at least a week so you can figure something out."

V held up his finger before Tran could speak.

"Ah-ah. You're probably gonna be like, 'but you've already done so much for me!' Yeah. I have. Do you really think the eddies mean anything to me if I was already willing to throw the cash around the first time? I'm like that picture of the old cartoon character from the... Fuckin'... 1980s. He was like a duck swimming in the sea of gold? It was a meme on the early Net. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

He could tell by the look on Tran's face he didn't.

"Whatever. The point is, I'm rich, so just take it, kid."

[transcxndxnt]

He doesn't have the faintest idea what V's talking about, but he talks about it with such a passion that Tran can't help but laugh. He sort of expected the legendary V to be more… stuck up. Instead, he's down to earth, cracking jokes. For how nervous Tran had been to meet him, he feels more comfortable talking to him than most people in Night City.

Tran's never been good at accepting help. Mostly, he just gets sick of being treated like a kid. He doesn't need someone to protect him or to tell him what to do. He can think for himself and make his own decisions, even if some of the decisions he makes end up being gonk as fuck. He'd rather be in his current predicament, the result of his own choices, than still living in a gilded cage with his parents.

Money, however, is a different story. He'll take the money without an argument. “Damn, really!? People weren't lying when they told me you were, like, a folk hero or some shit. Thanks!”

“I won't let you down. A week in a hotel's all I need- I got a job interview lined up day after tomorrow. It's just a restaurant thing-” okay, so it's a strip club, but that's Night City for you. He's not stripping- hopefully.

“But, if I get it, I think I can get my shit together.” Hopefully.

[ojibwa]

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[I have a secret Johnny Silverhand sideblog @silverhanged btw]

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[Tran is the only non-white main character in his book by design, not by accidental lack of representation. His story starts with him being torn between two communities and not feeling fully welcome in either one.

He's Vietnamese, but he doesn't see himself in any of the other Vietnamese people around him- his strict traditional parents from an older generation, along with their friends and neighbors, and the children of those friends and neighbors who, like him, are playing the role of the good, traditional, children around anyone who might report back to their parents. People who think being queer is an American thing, that he's picked it up from spending too much time around disrespectful white kids who don't care if they disappoint their parents.

(And, of course, there ARE older queer Asian people out there in the world, but they aren't friends with Tran's parents and they don't live in his very insulated, traditional, community. He doesn't ever get to meet these people.)

He finds refuge in the gay community, but still recognizes that he doesn't fit in. He's extremely fetishized for his race by just about every character he interacts with, and he doesn't fully see the problem with it- because at least they're aren't rejecting him like his family did. Luke is particularly bad about it and very explicitly only dates young Asian men, to the point where his friends joke about it with Luke because everyone knows.

The gay community that he mingles with is exclusively white cis men. They're all older than him, have a lot more experience under their belts, have their own homes so they don't have any empathy for Tran's fear of being kicked out by his parents. The man who eventually murders him, Jay, is additionally wealthy and influential, in comparison to Tran, who's homeless and broke by that point. The cops are literally THERE, but do nothing, explicitly because Jay is a white man with bribe money and Tran is nobody.

He has an ongoing narrative of being chewed up and spit out by white cis men with more privileges than himself, objectified up until the point that they literally kill and eat him.

Anyway, I think it's extremely important, in all of my verses, for him to find community in other queer people and especially queer people of color.]

[blightbitten-deactivated2026031]

VERY SPECIFIC MUNDAY ASKS

🫧 Why did you pick this particular muse? 💭 Replying and writing opens: Yes or No? Why? ✨ Faceclaims that aren't banned but you cannot stand? 🐠 Do you write outside of the RPC? 🪼 How many languages do you speak? 🐇 What is the best way to approach you? 🍵 What does your writing process look like? Do you make physical notes first? Do you use docs? 🍡 Favourite snack while writing? 🥤 Favourtie drink while writing? 🗯 Show us the last youtube video you watched. 🌊 What was the first muse you've ever written? 🌱 What was the last book you read? 🪻 Do you prefer sending memes or receiving them? 🍭 Say something nice about your appearance. 🎀 Say something nice about your character. 🪷 Whose writing do you admire? 💕 Say something nice about your own writing. 🍑 What is something you hyperfocus on in your portrayal? 💫 Say something nice about a random mun.

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“That's it? You want me to pay rent?” Being dead is a whole lot less dramatic than he'd expected. Shouldn't this guy be asking for human sacrifices or something? The souls of the damned? The books he used to read really romanticized the whole death situation.

“I can do that! Easy!” Easier now than it would've been when he was alive, anyway. He's invisible. The hardest part of picking pockets now is going to be willing up enough physical energy to be able to grab the cash.

But… Maybe the hardest part is really going to be picking a mark. It's not like he knows a lot of rich guys around here.

Wait. He did know a rich guy. He knew a rich guy very well. He was murdered in a fucking mansion- now fully abandoned.

He perks up, clearly excited by this prospect. His luck is finally turning around.

“I know where we can get thousands! Trust me! Come on, let's go, I'll take you right to it! And then you gotta let me stick around!”

[l-ethiferous]

'Then you gotta let me stick around!'

Dear god, was he running a collect-a-thon challange for ghosts? Was that what this was?

"This better be worth it," he muttered following him. Sure, it was a bitch to have to constantly find victims to kill just to have a job (the bills are not gonna pay themselves unfortunately), but there was zero shame in just telling a random ghost to pay rent. Hey, if he was going to end up having him haunt for eternity, he mght as well get some money out of him.

He stiffled a laugh; him, a purgatorial being, extorting a ghost for money. Now if that wasn't fucking depressing, he didn't what was.

Nevertheless, he followed him, at a bit of a distance (can't trust anyone, living or dead), as he was lead to god knows where. "So, how'd you fucking die again?" There was no curiosity within his tone, keeping his voice as neutral as possible, but at least this would pass the time.

[transcxndxnt]

It isn't a long walk; he didn't stray too far from the site of his death to begin with. No point in going all the way across the state- once you're dead, here's as good as there. They're already just around the corner by the time the man questions him.

“Picture's worth a thousand words. You're about to find out.” They pass a handful of houses, all enormous and clearly expensive, each encircled by wrought iron gates. He stops in front of one on the corner, tests the gate- still unlocked. He passes through the yard, tries the front door; the knob turns, it's unlocked, but he doesn't open it just yet.

“You strike me as the kind of guy who knows what dead bodies smell like. No offense. Kinda feels rude to spring it on you, anyway, so here's your warning. I don't know how long it's been but, uh… long enough.”

[transcxndxnt]

[Posts an entire chapter of the book lol

Anyway this scene was brutal and I feel like its important to understanding tran]

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@neonfool

It's easier to get into the Afterlife than he's expecting. Plan A, 24 hours prior, was to wait outside until the wee hours of the morning in the hopes of catching V leaving for the night.

It didn't work.

But, it brought him an opportunity for a Plan B. Just when he was considering giving up for the night and finding a safer place to crash, he caught the eye of a different merc.

The guy thought he was a joytoy. Though he set the record straight on that, there was still room for negotiation- a blowjob and about 60 eddies worth of Glitter in exchange for a couch to sleep on for the night and an escort into the Afterlife the following night. Primary concern was that the guy was going to get attached and keep him on a short leash once they got into the bar.

Negotiations continued once they were inside. The agreement had been to part ways once they were past the doors but, hands on Tran's thigh trying to slide up his dress, the merc tried to convince him otherwise- just one drink, come on, last night was a good time, wasn't it?

“That kid even old enough to be in here? Come on, Jeff, fuck off.” calls a redhead behind the bar. The merc takes the hint- if he's gonna try anything else, it can't be with the bartender staring him down, ready to kick him out if he causes a scene.

Tran moves towards the bar, takes a seat, sticks a couple eddies in the tip jar, “Thanks…”

“Yeah, don't mention it. But, seriously, aren't you a little young to be in here?”

“I'm 21- and I'm looking for someone.”

“A fixer? You in trouble?”

“I was. I'm not anymore. Wanted to tell the guy thanks… Heard he owns the place…”

The bartender lights up at that. Apparently he's in the right place- she definitely knows him. “That checks out. V's a good guy- always sticking his neck out for people. And you're in luck- he's around, just took a trip to the bathroom.”

As if on cue, the brightly colored hair of the legendary merc can be seen weaving through the crowd, en route back to the bar. Tran hops up and intercepts, meeting him halfway with a great big smile.

“You're V! Holy shit! Everyone said I could find you here, but I was like ‘nahhh, no way, just chilling at a bar like a normal guy!?’ But, you're here!”

He pauses for just a moment, if only to finally take a breath. “You probably don't even remember me, sorry, uh-”

This isn't exactly how he rehearsed this. God, he sounds so stupid. His smile falters- he's definitely annoying V.

“You saved my life.”

[transcxndxnt]

“Hey, I am taking it easy! Haven't been to a rave in weeks.” He cracks a grin. Does anyone in Night City ever really take it easy? You're either busy or you're dead and, thanks to V, he's not dead just yet.

“Figured a bar's just as mellow as the streets around here, anyway. Got no place else to go.” He'd mostly been bouncing around the streets ever since he got out of the hospital.

He has a handful of friends who probably would've let him sleep on their couches, but he'd never been very good at asking for help like that. He didn't want to admit that he needed it- he didn't want them to pity him, as pitiful as he may have been in his current circumstances.

“I was staying with Jay Byrne… for a couple of days there, at least. Can't really go back there, so…”

[transcxndxnt]

[If I'm actually going to be using my cyberpunk verse with people other than my fiance, im going to have to fully flesh out some details that I just sort of hand waved in my original write up of the verse.

Mostly the cyberpsychosis as an AIDs allegory part. Trans original story is about coming out as a gay man in the 90's and so much of his motivation and struggles stem from him feeling like it's inevitable that he's going to come up HIV positive any day now and die of the disease just like so many of the other gay men around him did.

A lot of that hinges on the fact that, at the time, it was a disease that no one knew very much about, and that no one cared much to research or cure because it was seen as something only affecting the queer community.

Nearly 100 years in the future with extremely advanced medical care, HIV no longer has the impact or stigma in 2077 that it did when it was first discovered. But, in Cyberpunk canon, cyberpsychosis fits into a similar box: it's new, it's scary, it's widespread, no one quite knows how it works or how to cure it.

But, to fully flesh it out and fit into Trans canon mindset, I need to tie it back into Trans identity as a gay man- it needs to not just be something that's happening to the population at random, but a baggage that he feels was handed to him upon realizing his sexuality. It needs to be something personally affecting the circles that he runs in at a higher rate than the population at large.

I'm thinking I need to craft some sort of 2077 gay subculture that centers around cyberware mods. Something similar to how modern gays have the leather subculture.

In canon, Tran doesn't have HIV, and in Cyberpunk verse he didn't have any cyberware before his almost-death; but it was ever present around him as something people would just assume he had if they found out he was gay.

With a cyberware subculture, I think there would be a peer pressure affecting him, similar to the pressures of hookup culture that would expose him to risk of disease. His friends talk about cyberware like “when are you getting your first piece?” not like it's optional. He's being told that it's impossible to get cyberpsychosis from just one or two mods, but he's not so convinced.]

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[I was expecting this to be mostly a dbd verse blog but its turning into mostly a cyberpunk verse blog]

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@neonfool

It's easier to get into the Afterlife than he's expecting. Plan A, 24 hours prior, was to wait outside until the wee hours of the morning in the hopes of catching V leaving for the night.

It didn't work.

But, it brought him an opportunity for a Plan B. Just when he was considering giving up for the night and finding a safer place to crash, he caught the eye of a different merc.

The guy thought he was a joytoy. Though he set the record straight on that, there was still room for negotiation- a blowjob and about 60 eddies worth of Glitter in exchange for a couch to sleep on for the night and an escort into the Afterlife the following night. Primary concern was that the guy was going to get attached and keep him on a short leash once they got into the bar.

Negotiations continued once they were inside. The agreement had been to part ways once they were past the doors but, hands on Tran's thigh trying to slide up his dress, the merc tried to convince him otherwise- just one drink, come on, last night was a good time, wasn't it?

“That kid even old enough to be in here? Come on, Jeff, fuck off.” calls a redhead behind the bar. The merc takes the hint- if he's gonna try anything else, it can't be with the bartender staring him down, ready to kick him out if he causes a scene.

Tran moves towards the bar, takes a seat, sticks a couple eddies in the tip jar, “Thanks…”

“Yeah, don't mention it. But, seriously, aren't you a little young to be in here?”

“I'm 21- and I'm looking for someone.”

“A fixer? You in trouble?”

“I was. I'm not anymore. Wanted to tell the guy thanks… Heard he owns the place…”

The bartender lights up at that. Apparently he's in the right place- she definitely knows him. “That checks out. V's a good guy- always sticking his neck out for people. And you're in luck- he's around, just took a trip to the bathroom.”

As if on cue, the brightly colored hair of the legendary merc can be seen weaving through the crowd, en route back to the bar. Tran hops up and intercepts, meeting him halfway with a great big smile.

“You're V! Holy shit! Everyone said I could find you here, but I was like ‘nahhh, no way, just chilling at a bar like a normal guy!?’ But, you're here!”

He pauses for just a moment, if only to finally take a breath. “You probably don't even remember me, sorry, uh-”

This isn't exactly how he rehearsed this. God, he sounds so stupid. His smile falters- he's definitely annoying V.

“You saved my life.”

[transcxndxnt]

He's sure V is going to tell him to get lost. Instead, he invites him to sit, and Tran's face lights up again. He doesn't hesitate to take the seat beside V, watching him drink.

“I'm 21! I swear! Just always been small for my age, I guess.” It's the truth, though he's pretty sure V isn't going to believe him. He's used to being mistaken for a teenager.

“I could do virgin, though. I've got so many painkillers in my system right now I can barely stand as it is.” He's not usually one to turn down a drink, whether he's already fucked up or not, but the thought of puking what's left of his guts up tomorrow morning sounds like a new level of hell.

“We met a few weeks ago. I mean, sort of. I was… pretty unconscious, as far as I can remember. You probably don't recognize me on account of all the blood? Back at the Byrne Estate. I woke up at a ripper… and he said you brought me in.”

[transcxndxnt]

[curse of baby face]

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@neonfool

It's easier to get into the Afterlife than he's expecting. Plan A, 24 hours prior, was to wait outside until the wee hours of the morning in the hopes of catching V leaving for the night.

It didn't work.

But, it brought him an opportunity for a Plan B. Just when he was considering giving up for the night and finding a safer place to crash, he caught the eye of a different merc.

The guy thought he was a joytoy. Though he set the record straight on that, there was still room for negotiation- a blowjob and about 60 eddies worth of Glitter in exchange for a couch to sleep on for the night and an escort into the Afterlife the following night. Primary concern was that the guy was going to get attached and keep him on a short leash once they got into the bar.

Negotiations continued once they were inside. The agreement had been to part ways once they were past the doors but, hands on Tran's thigh trying to slide up his dress, the merc tried to convince him otherwise- just one drink, come on, last night was a good time, wasn't it?

“That kid even old enough to be in here? Come on, Jeff, fuck off.” calls a redhead behind the bar. The merc takes the hint- if he's gonna try anything else, it can't be with the bartender staring him down, ready to kick him out if he causes a scene.

Tran moves towards the bar, takes a seat, sticks a couple eddies in the tip jar, “Thanks…”

“Yeah, don't mention it. But, seriously, aren't you a little young to be in here?”

“I'm 21- and I'm looking for someone.”

“A fixer? You in trouble?”

“I was. I'm not anymore. Wanted to tell the guy thanks… Heard he owns the place…”

The bartender lights up at that. Apparently he's in the right place- she definitely knows him. “That checks out. V's a good guy- always sticking his neck out for people. And you're in luck- he's around, just took a trip to the bathroom.”

As if on cue, the brightly colored hair of the legendary merc can be seen weaving through the crowd, en route back to the bar. Tran hops up and intercepts, meeting him halfway with a great big smile.

“You're V! Holy shit! Everyone said I could find you here, but I was like ‘nahhh, no way, just chilling at a bar like a normal guy!?’ But, you're here!”

He pauses for just a moment, if only to finally take a breath. “You probably don't even remember me, sorry, uh-”

This isn't exactly how he rehearsed this. God, he sounds so stupid. His smile falters- he's definitely annoying V.

“You saved my life.”